Nevada County picayune., 1887-10-26

NoNiu nDl ttIl nm mat auOtifel loved me. What would he care for little shop girl without a pen. ny ln her purse? With his con. sent l should never marry her, even were there no Mile Morau on earth. might resist his auihori. ty and marry Airline. Alter that, perhaps l might teach music for q livelihood. l knew something of the art. And then, if we two could live m q garrrt, we might be happy. Could WE! Could |! ! thought of my own elegant home; of the style in which had alway \ lived; of the luXuries that had grown to be necessities To me. 1! shuddered. t
 "Perhaps time will help me-" l Said. to myself. II will not anger my father yet. will remain pas. sive. l will never marry Made moiselle Moran; but if it .amuses the old people to talk of oitr' be. tro;hal, let them do it.' V !
 So l saved my conscience. Once or twice week my father took me formally to call upon young Mademoiselle Moran. The rest of the evening l made love to my little Airline. She lived with her grandfather OH all upper floor in Il dismal street, but the room was bright and clean enough, and she was as pretty aud as fresh as il rose.
 Together we supped upon bread and radishes, and claret, which | brought with me Ill d long bottle. Those were delicious feaSts. They were sweetened and tiayored by love. She did not know that was rich man. She did not care whether l was rich or poor.
 Neither of Us looked far into the future. We were young, and the present sutiiced us. Whether we whispered together in the lit tie garret. or went arm in arm to see play; whether we walked through the gas-lit streets, or wandered ou some summer holi- day out into the pleasant country places-we were as happy as the day was long. Meanwhile Mile Moran gave me lier polite a,tten- ton when we met, and made no objection whatever to our parents plan.
 @ Loving Airline as did, 1 was still Il coward. You have kuown me Ill battle and will perhaps think 1 belle myself, hut at one an,l.twenty was d moral coward. deSpi>e myself as. l write, but l have promised to tell the truth. l allowed matters to proceed with out interruption, until at last l was formally afiianced to Mile Mo- ran. signed the marriage con tract with my own hand, then l felt that 1 cOud not retrace my steps. Satan whispered in my ear.
 What does it matter? Mary the lady. Your little shop girl does not know any thing about you. Keep your fortune and your sweet heart also.
 managed my little affair so as to avoid suspicion on both sides. Reckless of the wrong l was do. ing to two good and pure young girls, l tioatod down the stream toward my wedding day.
 But satan always deserts his friends at last. A letter from my father, which l had recklessly car ried about me, fell from my pocket unseen by me one night as l part. ed from Airline.
 She read it. Perhaps jealousy prompted her; and she fancied that she might have discovered a rivals billetdoux. At all kecents she read it, and learned from it all the truth. Charged with it, l could not deny the facts.
 could only VOW that l loved her and her alone. Poor child! As she listened l saw all hope and sweetness die out of her face. White and desparing, with her eyes dilating and her lips set hard, she looked at me and said nothing, she drowned herself in the seine that night, and when next l saw her it was upon a marble slab in the Morgue, her hands upon her breast, her hair falling about her like a black veil, my ring upon her finger. My friend, l did not marry Mile Moran. Remorse oyerwhelm- ed me at last. l confessed all to